


just bodies that collide; lost and found each other

by insomniaaa



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: (also it's fun and kinda addicting haha don't try this at home kids), Alternate Universe - Boxing, Ambiguous Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Making Out, Multi, def blood/injuries! they curse a lot! alcohol/weed ment! nd theyre a mess so.potential icky factors, they r a wreck and somehow go from fistfighting 2 making out 2 cuddling! yeah, underground boxers! almost definitely illegal but they r trying to pay their way thru college n shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 05:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21489193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insomniaaa/pseuds/insomniaaa
Summary: There’s a long, empty pause because Changbin doesn’t know what to do, and Jisung won’t stop beating the shit out of the punching bag and in turn his own, bare knuckles. They look like they’re starting to bleed again. “Fight me.” It’s so soft Changbin almost misses it between Jisung's fists hitting the bag; it’s not any louder than his harsh breathing.“No.”"Why not?"
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Seo Changbin, there's some side hyunho and vaguely implied possible minbinsungjin bc i am me :D
Comments: 13
Kudos: 101





	1. a sadness in the breeze; as the night divides us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [violetcity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetcity/gifts), [springup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/springup/gifts).

> in these darker days, i push the limit to the love you offer.  
there's a riot in my head, demanding we do this forever.  
why would we divide when we could come together?  
just bodies that collide, lost and found each other.  
so don't, don't leave me alone.  
why would we divide when we could come together?  
(divide, bastille)
> 
> the one where jo cant shut up and gets 8k of binsung trying to figure out their feelings. they r a trainwreck but like :( they r also in love :( so good luck

Hyunjin had told Changbin to go get Jisung home before he got himself too hurt when he picked a fight with the wrong person. He’d handle the bar, drag Minho in if necessary, it was fine. _ Take care of Jisung. _

Changbin went up to him when he stumbled out of winning his fourth fight for the night. He had a deliriously happy grin on his face. He looked drunk on the feeling winning again. “Hey, Sung—”

You could see the recognition in his eyes before he even saw Changbin, but he rolled them as he pulled up his dirty tank top to wipe the sweat and blood off of his face and neck. Changbin threw him a clean, albeit old and scratchy, towel. “Hyunjin already tried to talk to me, Binnie, I’m fine, I want to keep fighting, don’t worry about me, mind your own business.” It sounded monotone and Jisung already seemed tired behind the stained terry cloth.

“Sungie…” Changbin grabbed his fingers gently to make him look him in the eyes.

Jisung shook his head and his gaze softened a little. “Changbin, please don’t. I need this right now, okay? Please, just don’t.”

Changbin sighed and pressed a soft kiss against his palm before nodding. “If someone beats you up, I’ll be the next one in that ring to kick the shit out of them.” He was dead serious but he doesn’t know why he even said that. Jisung doesn’t just lose fights to random people when he’s like this. “I’m still keeping my eyes on you, angel.”

Jisung had cracked a tired smile.

That was three of Jisung’s fights ago. He refused to listen to any of them, and Changbin can’t put out the worry slowly crackling through his chest. He’s obviously tired and not thinking straight and he seems so stressed and he’s felt more distant lately in general. He didn’t lose any, but he barely got up at the very last second against his last opponent.

Now Changbin has lost sight of him. He’s hurriedly wiping down the bar and telling people that they’re closed. _ Go upstairs if you want more beer. _ He doesn’t care that they usually serve alcohol for at least half an hour after the last brawl, but Changbin is done. He needs to take care of Jisung.

His phone vibrates.

** _jinnie<3: _ ** _ we’re in gameroom_

Changbin tosses his towel under the back counter and turns off the bar lights.

When he ducks under the half rolled up door into the practice room, Hyunjin, Minho, and Jisung are all tangled together on one of the ratty couches around the room. Hyunjin is running his fingers through Jisung’s hair. His eyes are half closed and he looks so pretty and seeing him relaxed makes a little weight lift out of Changbin’s lungs.

“Hey, princess, Binnie’s done. You two should head home.”

“Hmm?” Jisung blinks up at Hyunjin and picks his head up to look at Changbin. “No, I’m fine. Don’t wanna head home right now.”

“Why?”

Jisung stumbles to his feet and shrugs, rubbing his hand over his eyes. “I… Dunno. I should, um, practice. Uh.” He’s standing but even Changbin can see that his whole body is shaking as he walks to the nearest hanging punching bag. He hits it, harder than Changbin thought he still could, and Changbin automatically moves behind it and catches it so it stops swinging. 

“C’mon, angel, you really don’t have to. You’re tired. Let’s go home.”

“I’m _ fine _, Changbin.” Jisung hits the bag again and Changbin grunts and slides his right foot back a little to keep his balance while keeping the bag steady too.

“_ I’m _ tired, Sungie, please.” 

“Go home then, Bin. I’ll be there in a little bit.” This hit isn’t as hard as the last two. Obviously he’s tired too.

Changbin leans his head against the bag even though his brain will vibrate in his skull if Jisung slams his fists into it again. “I don’t want you walking home alone when you’re so tired, Sung.”

“For the last time… I’m not tired, asshole.”

They hear Hyunjin’s muffled laugh from the couch where he’s still curled up on Minho’s lap and Jisung spins around to look at them. “What’s so funny?”

Hyunjin looks up as he puts his hand over Minho’s mouth to stop him from trying to kiss him. “You almost fell asleep with your head on my lap right before Changbin came in!” He lets go of Minho’s jaw and wipes his hand on his shirt. “Ew, you did not have to kiss my hand like that, Min.” He smiles back up at Jisung and his eyes shimmer a little in the dull overhead lights. “So clearly. You _ are _ tired, princess. Go home.” 

“Shut up.” Jisung turns back towards the bag but avoids looking at Changbin. He’s angrily pouting and it shouldn’t be cute. His eyes are red though and the circles under them are dark. He looks drained and rough as hell, and that’s not even bringing his bruised and cut up cheekbones or the drying blood around his lips into consideration. “I could take the bus anyway.”

“I just don’t want you _ alone _ this late. We can stay here longer, I don’t care, I’ll wait, but stop overexerting yourself. Let me clean your face up, take a shower, go cuddle with Hyunjin and Minho, or—”

“What about you?” Jisung kicks at the bag lightly and Changbin’s head reverbrates.

“What?”

“Nevermind.” He pushes Changbin’s head off the punching bag before hitting it again. Changbin has to catch his breath.

There’s a long, empty pause because Changbin doesn’t know what to do, and Jisung won’t stop beating the shit out of the bag and in turn his own, bare knuckles. They look like they’re starting to bleed again. “Fight me.” It’s so soft Changbin almost misses it between Jisung's fists hitting the bag; it’s not any louder than his harsh breathing.

“No.”

Jisung’s arms drop to his sides and he stares at Changbin. “Why not?”

“Because it feels like kicking a puppy, Jisung.” He reaches for Jisung’s bruising face before letting his hand fall with a sigh. “You look tired and fucked up as shit. Doesn’t feel fair.”

“If you beat me, we go home.”

Changbin looks over Jisung’s shoulder with a groan and Minho shrugs at him. “And what happens if you beat Changbin, Hannie?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we’ll stay, maybe I’ll make Changbin go home and sleep and leave me the fuck alone, maybe…”

His voice trails off like he forgot he was even speaking and Minho takes it as his turn to be annoying and he laughs. “Maybe winner gets a _ kiss _ ?” Changbin stares over Jisung’s shoulder at him in disbelief, mouthing a tired _ fuck you _. Jisung is glaring. “Or I can even fight you next!”

“Angel,” Jisung snaps out of his annoyance to look back at Changbin, who’s taking his nose ring out and moving to put it on the table next to the sofa, “you’re not winning anyways so you don’t even _ need _ to pick anything.” Changbin smiles tauntingly and takes a step too close for Jisung to even swing as he takes of his jacket and throws it in the vague direction of the couch. “I’m gonna kick your fucking ass. And we’re gonna go sleep.”

“Don’t get cocky.” Jisung looks him up and down and breathes out a shaky breath. “Short-ass.”

Changbin rolls his eyes and shoves Jisung. “You’re like two centimetres taller than me.”

“And I’ll cling to those two centimetres forever, baby.” Jisung swings at Changbin’s chin, but Changbin ducks and hits him in the chest. Jisung barely takes the time to cough before diverting with a shot to his ear and slamming him in the jaw instead. Changbin can hear the crack and he feels Jisung’s blood smear on his cheek.

“You couldn’t have maybe wiped your hands before this?” He swipes at his face with his hand but he knows it only smears more. “Even a _ little _ bit?”

“Would you rather it be your _ own _ blood?” Jisung throws another punch that Changbin blocks.

“Fair enough.” Changbin jabs at him but he barely grazes his chin.

“Stop going easy on me, Changbin.”

“I’m still having a hard time getting over the kicked puppy shit, Sung.” He shrugs a little and Jisung takes the moment to punch him in the nose. Changbin feels his chin snap up an inch from the force, and he takes a step back to shake his head. There’s blood dripping down onto his lip and he grimaces as he touches it. “Aw, and that hit could’ve been a lot harder. What’s your excuse?”

“We don’t want your pretty nose broken again.” Jisung shrugs and signals for Changbin to come closer. “Now hit me harder, you tiny coward.”

Maybe he _ does _ want to go home.

Changbin rolls his eyes and jabs high before getting a blow to his mouth instead. “Maybe you should keep your mouth shut.” Minho lets out a surprised laugh and Changbin almost forgot they were still here. The cut on Jisung’s lower lip is open again and as he looks away to wipe at it, Changbin glances at the couch.

They look mildly invested but apparently the more interesting thing right now is Hyunjin’s lips on Minho’s neck. Minho gives him a thumbs up with the hand that’s not in Hyunjin’s hair and a raised eyebrow. “Maybe… like, talk to him?” he half mouths, half whispers.

“Fuck you,” Jisung growls at Changbin, and Changbin snaps his gaze back, but he sounds more annoyed than pissed. He runs his tongue over his teeth to get any blood off before hitting a distracted Changbin in the mouth.

Changbin can feel the inside of his mouth get metallic again and he spits it out, only mostly missing Jisung’s dirty, white converse. “You _ literally _ asked for it, angel.”

“Hey, now I have your blood on my knuckles too.”

“How fucking _ romantic _.”

Jisung snorts and comes at him again and Changbin is _ tired _. He can only take so much of Jisung’s shit and just as Jisung’s knuckles crack into somewhere around his eye (the pain is blooming, he can’t remember where it started), Changbin steps closer. He sees Jisung’s eyes go wide when he grabs his hair and pulls back hard, but he’s too late and too drained to do anything about it; Changbin puts his foot behind Jisung’s and shoves.

Jisung grabs the front of his hoodie and they both go down to the floor. He thinks he distantly hears Hyunjin and Minho cheering. Jisung’s head is mostly cushioned by Changbin’s hand but Changbin can still hear the breath get knocked right out of Jisung’s lungs underneath him.

Chan and Jeongin have been talking about replacing the worn matting in here for what feels like forever right now.

Jisung groans as soon he gets some semblance of breathing going again and spits out an angry, “You fucking dirty-ass bitch. Should’ve seen that coming.”

“Oh, we both know that fighting clean has always been more your thing.” Changbin pushes himself up on one elbow and smiles down at Jisung. “Angel.” Jisung grumbles and tries to push Changbin off of him. “Mm-mm.” His voice softens a little. “What if we talk about what’s wrong before you try to get rid of me again?”

Jisung drops his head back against Changbin’s hand and rolls his head to the side to avoid Changbin’s gaze. “There’s nothing to talk about, Changbin. I guess I just… fucking felt like picking stupid fights tonight.”

“Hm.”

Changbin keeps looking down at him until Jisung looks back, even though it’s for two split seconds before he focuses on some point past Changbin’s forehead. This ceiling has lots of little, weird spots to fixate on: missing patches of plaster, a piece of gum or two, probably splatters of blood. “I really don’t know, Bin. I just feel like I have… have too _ much _ in me. Too many feelings, too many thoughts, too much frustration, too much that I don’t know what to do with.” His voice crackles and he clears his throat and laughs roughly. It sounds a little bit like it hurts. “I feel like I can’t stop moving because I have nothing to hold me down and keep me from blowing up.

“I guess somehow purposefully staying away from our apartment makes it easier? At least that’s what I tell myself? I think about y— about how lonely things have gotten because of how busy we’ve been too much when I’m there, and it’s harder to stay busy there.” He slowly attempts to sit up again and Changbin doesn’t fight him this time. His hands find Changbin’s hips like he wasn’t even trying and he hesitantly meets his gaze again. His eyes are still glittering like a million stars despite how fucked up he’s looking and sounding otherwise. It’s something Changbin hasn’t been able to get over for years. “I guess I also just…? I miss you, Changbin.”

“What.” Changbin feels a twinge in his heart. “We’re literally together all the time, Jisung…” He laughs, because he doesn’t know what else to do, and shifts, moves his legs so that they’re loosely around Jisung’s waist before they start to lose circulation and become numb and useless like his brain. “I mean, we live together, a couple of our composition and production classes are together, we’re at the studio in between, and we’re both here together most nights.”

“Yeah. Yeah, fuck. I _ know _,” Jisung growls. “It sounds so stupid even saying it.” It doesn’t, because Changbin knows how he feels, which makes this worse somehow, but he’s not sure how to put that into words before Jisung starts trying to push him off again. “You should just go.”

“Hey, what the fuck?” Changbin becomes aware of the fact that his grip on Jisung’s hair is still _ there _ and has only gotten tighter subconsciously, nervously, and he pulls to make Jisung look at him. Jisung’s breath catches in his throat painfully. “A deal’s a deal, you can’t just tell me to fuck off like that. Even if we don’t go home, you need a break. We can go grocery shopping for all I care. We’ve been living off of Cheerios and ramen packages the last week anyway.”

Changbin stumbles to his feet and pulls up Jisung after him, fast enough that Jisung bumps into his chest and his nose hits Changbin’s cheek. “And don’t even try to start shit with me for the millionth time. Or else I might start regretting not knocking you out.” Jisung just avoids his glare with a nervous squeak. It was probably supposed to be a cocky laugh. Changbin backs away from him before he remembers how pretty he is.

Minho gently pushes Hyunjin off his lap and grabs Changbin’s jacket. He gets up to wrap his arms around Jisung’s waist carefully. He kisses his ear before whispering, “Hey, get some sleep, okay, Hannie baby?”

Changbin runs his thumb over Jisung’s hand, and Jisung sighs and nods dejectedly. He doesn’t say anything. His right ear is red.

Minho tosses Changbin’s jacket around his shoulders and lets his hand linger at the nape of his neck. “You too, Bin.” He runs his fingers up through Changbin’s hair. “Your ring’s in one of your jacket pockets by the way. _ Please _ don’t put it in right now, your nose is literally still bleeding.” He digs around in both of his own pockets and pulls out a few rings. “And here’s your rings, Hannie.” He drops them in Jisung’s empty hand and blows a kiss before backing up to flop against the couch again. 

Hyunjin puts his sweater on Jisung, whining about how Jisung needs to stop forgetting his own sweaters everywhere. Changbin is surprised when Jisung reaches for his hand again as soon as his left hand is free from the fabric; he accepts it as Hyunjin zips up the sweater with a sleepy “I love you” and “goodnight” and shoves them in the direction of the back exit.

There’s a few jingling noises as Jisung drops his rings in a pocket, but they don’t say anything as they walk down the dark hallway. Changbin steps on a wrapper and Jisung jumps. He laughs and just pulls him closer.

He pushes open the door and shivers as the cold hits them. Jisung stands in the doorway for a second, and Changbin can tell he’s hesitating. Considering arguing again. He just tightens his grip on Jisung’s hand and tells him he’ll help him up the stairs. Jisung sighs and lets the door swing closed and it echoes in the tiny stairwell. The outside handle is broken and Jisung’s keys are heavy in Changbin’s pocket from when they first got there. They aren’t going back in tonight.

Changbin puts his arm around Jisung’s back, Jisung groans in pain, and they limp up the stairs. As soon as their heads stick out above the ground, a blast of wind hits them in the face. He can feel Jisung shudder against him. It’s instictual but it makes Jisung feel vulnerable to him and it makes him shake too.

Jisung stands with his face against Changbin’s collarbone once they’re off the stairs and his warm, heavy breaths soaks through Changbin’s shirt in between his unbuttoned jacket. It feels like they stand there for a while, but Changbin doesn’t say anything. His chest feels funny but he blames it on the reverberations from the heavy bass puncturing through the walls of the upstairs club. He feels Jiusng swallow before he backs away and walks towards the street.

The door opens and a few people trip out, and he thinks they’re laughing about something as he automatically drops Jisung’s hand. It’s sweaty despite the chill anyway. Jisung starts talking again as soon as he does, and picks up his pace despite limping a little. He’s back to border-line whining about how Changbin makes him do things, but Changbin just follows behind him, lets him get it all out without countering with anything. This is better than his silence since they got up off the floor.

•••••

They’re almost to their apartment without Jisung even realizing because he hasn’t shut up long enough to notice, and Changbin is thankful. “Are you even listening to me?” Jisung turns around, still walking, and Changbin has to grab his shoulders and push him to the side a little to avoid running into a poll. He nods and Jisung shrugs his hands off. “You’re so fucking _ bossy _. What do you gain from being a bitch?”

“Should’ve let you run into that, but _ sleep _?” Changbin grumbles. “For both of us.”

Jisung spins around and lets out a puff of air that freezes in the cold air. It disappears as they step into the dingy alley that leads right to the convenience store across the street from their building. Jisung slows to stay closer to him. Changbin’s gaze turns into an eye roll when Jisung looks over his shoulder at him. “_ What _? Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know! Just…” Jisung waves his arms vaguely. “_ Stop _.”

“I just think it’s cute that you wanna be closer to me in the dark.”

“I don’t? I just… don’t want _ you _ to feel scared.” His voice shakes with uncertainty as he stumbles through his lie.

Changbin just huffs a little, amused, and says okay.

“What?” Jisung spins around and pokes Changbin in the chest.

“Nothing!” Changbin actually laughs and the dim light behind them glints off the cloud of fog that hangs between them. “I just said you’re cute, goddamn. That’s it. I don’t really wanna fight you again. Stop assuming things.”

“I’m not!” His voice is high pitched and squeaky and he moves even closer, his face in Changbin’s. His eyes sparkle with frustration right before he shoves him slightly.

Changbin rolls his eyes and barely even shifts his weight. “You’re literally such a _ baby _. Calm down.” 

“And you’re a bitch.”

“As you’ve said multiple times tonight. It’s getting old.” Changbin steps toward him, forcing Jisung to stumble backwards.

“You’re gonna make me fall again, Changbin, what the fuck?” His voice is starting to lose his assertiveness as he grabs Changbin’s arms to stop him. His back hits the brick wall though and the light glints off the surprised panic in his right eye.

“Not so brave now, are you, angel?” Changbin giggles and Jisung rolls his eyes and looks away. “So this is really how I shut you up, huh?”

“_ You _ shut up,” Jisung mumbles, still not meeting his gaze.

Changbin grabs his chin gently but pulls up firmly, and, oh God, getting into this was a mistake. Jisung looks so vulnerable and his grip on Changbin’s arms tightens nervously. “What’s wrong?”

“_ Nothing _,” Jisung squeaks out indignantly but he’s staring at Changbin now, a little stuck, looking a little enamored. Changbin wants to kiss him. He feels himself startle at his own realization that his sober brain has been pushing down for so long. Because Jesus Christ he really does want to kiss him with a clear head.

Jisung looks confused now and whispers, somewhere in between mocking and genuinely curious, “What’s wrong with _ you _?”

Changbin laughs again but it comes out as nervous as Jisung’s now and he shrugs. “Nothing.” Jisung tilts his head slightly and he’s so close Changbin can feel his warm “oh” against his lips. Changbin should step back, should pull away, but Jisung’s hands are burning into his arms and he can’t. He’d gladly melt into him.

Jisung is _ trembling _ against him too, but whether it’s with anxiety or adrenaline or still with indignation isn’t something Changbin knows. And that scares him because an energized Jisung is impulsive, and impulsive Jisung has lead to regretful Jisung too many times; this isn’t something he wants Jisung to regret.

“Sung…” Changbin whispers and Jisung meets his eyes and breathes out shakily against Changbin’s nose. “Don’t do something stu-”

Jisung does something stupid. Changbin is kissing him back before he’s even fully aware of Jisung’s mouth on his. Maybe that makes him even more stupid. He can’t tell if the metallic taste is still his blood or Jisung’s now. Jisung’s lips are chapped and he can feel the long cut where Jisung keeps bleeding from today against his tongue.

His hand is on Jisung’s waist when he snaps his head back with a strangled inhale. He needs to say something but his head feels empty and all he can think about his how warm and comfortable kissing Jisung is. He’s never kissed him fully sober and being more aware of everything is jarring when it comes to Jisung. “You…”

A laugh falls out of Jisung’s reddened lips. (It’s high pitched and beautiful.) He threads his fingers into Changbin’s hair. “_ Please _ just kiss me back, dumbass.” His other hand is under Changbin’s jacket. His shirt is thin and he can feel how cold Jisung’s hand, and especially his rings, are. His shirt is thin and Jisung can feel how erratically his heart is beating. Any frustration he felt melted as soon as Jisung kissed him and now that Jisung is licking into his mouth, it feels like his brain is melting too. All he can think is _ Jisung _ and he can’t bring himself to care.

Jisung pulls away and kisses his chin, kisses his cheek, moves down to his neck. His lips are soft but it’s his teeth scraping against Changbin’s throat that makes him realize that this is actually happening.

“Jisung, fuck, you realize where we are?” He sounds out of breath, which is humiliating, but he’s proud of himself for even getting a full sentence out.

Jisung laughs and meets his eyes with a raised eyebrow. “Like this hasn’t happened in worse places?”

“Fuck, okay, shut up.” The last part of that is muffled by Jisung’s mouth and oh, one of them is definitely bleeding again.

Jisung pulls away after a minute, and Changbin should be glad because his mouth only hurts even more than when he first got punched now, but he automatically chases after Jisung’s lips. Jisung is smiling against his lips before he kisses his chin and goes up this time.

“Is this…” Jisung kisses his nose and suddenly looks him in the eyes sincerely enough that Changbin wants to look away. “Is this a bad time to admit something serious?”

“What?” Changbin doesn’t want to hear it. He’s scared to hear it. Maybe he should never hear it. “When you’re making out with me in a dirty-ass ally at three in the morning and you’re tired as fuck? Immediately after complaining about me for an hour straight and we’ve beat each other up? Not su—”

“I like you, Bin.”

A chill runs down Changbin’s back and he knows Jisung can feel it because they’re still way too close. “You’re just tired, Hannie. You need sleep.”

“No, fuck you!” He sounds angry again but it’s softer anger now. “This isn’t just a stupid, spur of the moment thought. The kiss wasn’t either. I mean…” His voice drops and his nervous laugh makes Changbin’s heart twist. “I wasn’t expecting to kiss you sober now. Or _ ever _ again. God, maybe that part was stupid. Fuck.” He sounds so confused and stressed and Changbin wants so say something but this doesn’t even feel _ real _ anymore. He wants Jisung to look him in the eye again.

“It’s not,” Changbin whispers. “You kissing me wasn’t stupid. You’re not stupid either.” He’s afraid to say anything else, can’t remember what he wanted to say, but Jisung is looking at him again.

“What?”

“Didn’t I kiss you _ back _?” Changbin can hear himself distantly and his voice sounds shaky. And oh. “Wait. Why would you… Why would you say again? Kiss me sober again? I’ve never kissed you sober before.” Admitting that out loud makes his chest feel empty.

“I have.” Jisung stares at him, eyes dangerously focused. “Seungmin’s after-party shit a couple weeks ago.”

Ah. Changbin remembers that. He definitely wasn’t sober, but he does remember it. Jisung was late. Changbin remembers looking for his bright eyes the entire time he was there because he’d promised he’d make it. Every time the door to Seungmin’s suite opened, he’d look over and every time he heard a high-pitched laugh, he’d glance up. He was definitely stoned by the time Jisung finally showed. He doesn’t remember noticing Jisung _ not _ drinking or smoking until now though.

Jisung laughs. “You were stuck to me as soon as you saw me. And I missed the feeling. I missed just being with you. And it’s easier to take things in when I’m not wasted, so I just stayed sober all night. And, God, I forgot how much more you act like you’re touch-starved when you’re even a _ little _ out of it.” Changbin is looking down and his face feels flushed. “You’re the same when you’re drunk or even just really tired or just got the shit beaten out of you. And I’m usually equally as out of it, so that time I felt like… Shit, I felt like you were setting me on fucking fire the whole time.”

“I kissed you, didn’t I?” He did. He doesn’t know why he’s asking. Kissing Jisung sober does feel different, but only in the fact that he’s just hyper aware of everything relating to Jisung, apparently including his own feelings. It doesn’t mean he ever forgets kissing Jisung. Forgetting something like that sounds crazy to him. “Made out on the couch. Fell asleep there when the party quieted down.” They’d almost moved to a guest bedroom, but Jisung had suddenly announced that he didn’t wanna do anything else but sleep. Which had been fine, but now he realizes that it was probably because Jisung was actually sober while Changbin was anything but. “You were gone in the morning.” It had stung a little to wake up to empty arms. He had a slight headache, a neck full of hickies, and a sticky note on his forehead that said _ see you at work tonight tiny ass ♡ _.

“Yeah. Yeah, I was. I’m sorry.” His voice is soft and it makes Changbin look up. “And yeah. You did kiss me. And it’s funny, but I feel like I get delirious on you. It’s like— like winning a fight. The adrenaline makes you feel absolutely euphoric and it’s like you can’t feel pain anymore and all you want is more. And I guess I finally fully realized that I couldn’t keep telling myself that the feelings I had were temporary…or platonic. And that scares the _ shit _ out of me.”

Changbin wishes he knew how Jisung was forming so many full, coherent sentences because he’s not sure how he’s even managed to say anything in the last few minutes. “Jisung…” The hand in Changbin’s hair moves down and Jisung just gently puts his finger over Changbin’s lip. It still presses into his broken skin. It stings.

“You don’t have to talk. It’s fine.” His other fingers twist nervously in Changbin’s shirt. “But I’m serious, Changbin. I like you a lot. And I guess I’ve liked you for a while, before you ever even let me move in with you or anything. I mean, I was definitely in denial about it and kept wishing it away every few months, but obviously it never _ worked _ in the long run. Like, you make sure I eat breakfast before leaving for work, or you kiss my forehead and cover me with a blanket when I’m half asleep on the couch, or you help me study for my harder classes when things are slow at the ring, or you clean my cuts and take care of me, or you deal with my dumb whining at three in the morning when you could be in bed already and I’m just like, _ fuck _, I love this asshole, all over aga—” 

He’s clearly nervous rambling at this point and Changbin doesn’t know how to stop him. “Wait, shit, not _ love _, that’s kinda a strong word, you know. Like… I’ve— We’ve said it before, sure, but it sounds so serious, that’s coming on too strong, um—”

Changbin grabs his face and kisses him again before he can dig his hole deeper (his cheeks are burning against Changbin’s cold hands) and Jisung finally catches his breath when Changbin pulls back and looks at him. “You good? Give me a chance to say something before you embarrass me even more with your little speech, angel.”

“Stop calling me _ angel _ like that, oh my God.” His voice cracks unexpectedly and he pulls his face out of Changbin’s hands to hide it against his shoulder and now his other hand is latched around Changbin’s neck. “You act like you like me sometimes, it throws me off.”

“Sung… That’s my whole point.” Changbin runs his fingers through Jisung’s hair gently, without making him look up. “I _ do _ like you, dummy. I’ve just been too scared to even kinda admit it to myself for months. I guess my actions were ahead of my brain.” Jisung says something like _ what _ against his neck. “Kissing you drunk was the shitty best I could do, and not ever talking about it made it easier to not think about it sober. I just skirted around it and told myself I liked it because it was fun and because you were already… always so comfortable it made it easy and _ normal _ almost.”

“I’m comfortable.” Changbin almost wants to laugh at him somehow only managing to catch onto his last words.

“Yeah. You’re one of the most comfortable people I know, Sung,” Changbin mumbles against Jisung’s hair.

Jisung looks up. “Wait, you _ like _ me. God, my brain just shut down for a sec. Oh my God. Fuck. Wait.”

Changbin does laugh and he detangles one of Jisung’s hands from his shirt so he can kiss his bruised knuckles. “Yeah, I do, angel. Sorry for taking so long to become properly aware of my emotions.”

Jisung’s face splits into the widest, most genuine smile Changbin has seen in a while as he uses his other hand to pull Changbin as close as he can again. He kisses him, smile still on his lips, and it spreads to Changbin’s lips. (Jisung is contagious.) He pulls back just a little, head bumping against the brick wall, and sighs out a “Fuck Minho, but I guess he was right. Winner does get a kiss.”

“Yeah, fuck Minho.” Changbin kisses him one more time before taking a couple half-steps backwards, fingers still entwined, cold engulfing the gap in between them. His chest still feels warm though. “This really isn’t the best place to be having this conversation. It’s really cold and we need to sleep.”

“What? No three in the morning grocery shopping?”

“Fuck off. We look like we were both in the middle of a mugging, and I can’t guarantee they won’t think we were the ones doing the mugging with how fucked you look.”

“Oh, _ I _ look fucked. Look in a goddamn mirror.” Jisung snorts and starts walking down the alley again, this time clinging to Changbin. “We’ll go in the morning then.”

“Absolutely not, Ji. If I’m out of bed before noon, you have full permission to punch me again and knock me out for a couple hours.” Jisung wiggles his eyebrows teasingly. “Uh-uh. If you actively try to get me out of bed before noon, I have permission to hit _ you _ again. Don’t even try it. We can go to the grocery store in about… twelve hours.”

Jisung shakes his head and jabs in the passcode to get into their building’s stairwell. Changbin moves to wrap his arm around Jisung again to help him up the stairs to the fourth floor. Logically, Jisung could probably make it alone by now considering how he’s been walking since they left the club, but Changbin does it without thinking and Jisung doesn’t complain about his warmth or proximity. They bicker about what they should spend their grocery bill on and they still haven’t agreed by the time they’re at their apartment.

Jisung holds out his unoccupied hand and Changbin digs around for his set of keys in his pockets. “We’re really grossly domestic already, huh?”

“That’s nauseating, don’t say that,” Jisung whines as he unlocks their door.

•••••

Changbin makes Jisung get up on the kitchen counter next to the sink as he grabs the first-aid kit. (It always stands by the coffee machine, the two most used things in their kitchen.) He’s soaking a cloth in semi-warm water and holding an ice pack against his nose when Jisung pulls him between his legs and tries to kiss him again. “Sungie, c’mon…” Changbin complains but kisses him back anyway, one hand still awkwardly holding the towel over the sink and the bag of ice in the other direction so they don’t drip on Jisung’s lap.

It takes him a minute to snap out of Jisung’s fingers in his hair or his hand playing with the hem of his shirt to finally remember his objective of sleeping, and he manages a mumbled, “_ Bro _,” against Jisung’s mouth.

“Oh my God, please don’t ever do that again while kissing me.” Jisung runs his hands over his eyes in humiliation. “You do that sometimes, and it literally does not work when your tongue was _ just _ in my mouth. It just doesn’t, Changbin.”

“Hey, it got your attention.” Changbin is laughing at him and Jisung is staring at him through his ringed fingers, annoyed. “We need to get cleaned up so we can _ sleep _, dummy.”

“But you’re _ hot _ with blood on your face.” Now it’s Jisung’s turn to laugh as Changbin opens his mouth and closes it again a couple times.

He finally decides on, “Infected cuts and trying to get blood stains out of sheets is _ not _ sexy though,” as he puts down his ice bag and wrings out the cloth so he can try to wipe off the blood under Jisung’s right eye. Most of the cuts and bruises on Jisung’s face aren’t even Changbin’s fault, and it hurts to feel Jisung wince every time he presses a little too heavily. When he rips open a disinfectant wipe and dabs at Jisung’s lips, he starts whining like he always does about how much it stings and how Changbin should be gentler. “How do you complain about this more than actually getting beat up? Literally, I can’t do this without you calling me an asshole for pressing too hard, but you _ ask _ me to punch you in the face.”

“It’s not fun! This shit _ just _ hurts.”

Changbin shakes his head and puts a couple bandaids on Jisung’s face. “’Kay, so you feeling okay? ” His hands are still on his Jisung’s face. Jisung stares at him. “Or… better? At least.”

“Um, fuck, yeah. I’m okay.” He takes in a shaky breath. “This _ is _ real, right? Like, not some wacky dream?”

Changbin giggles and nods. He leans forward and kisses Jisung softly; he can feel Jisung relax against him. “Does that feel convincingly real?”

“Fair enough.”

Changbin can’t take Jisung still gazing at him like he hung the stars, and he turns towards the sink. He splashes water onto his face and it stings.

“What are you doing?”

Changbin looks up to Jisung staring at him like he’s dumb now, water sliding down his neck uncomfortably. “Washing my face?”

Jisung just grabs his arm and pulls him back, wrapping his legs around his waist so he can’t move. “Nah. Infections aren’t sexy, remember?” Changbin groans but Jisung grabs his chin and tears open a another disinfectant wipe with his teeth. He sticks out his tongue in disgust as he carefully cleans off the dried blood in Changbin’s eyebrow. “Okay, so rubbing alcohol is disgusting. I really need to stop doing that. Here. Close your eyes.”

He does as he asks after rolling them and can feel the chill of the wipe going over his eyelid. “How is _ that _ sanitary?”

“Fuck off.” Changbin can hear the smile in his soft voice. He doesn’t reopen his eyes and starts feeling his legs get wobbly after a minute. “Jesus, don’t pass out on me, Bin. I’m gonna leave your ass on the floor.”

“No, you won’t,” Changbin whines.

“No. I won’t.” Jisung finishes smearing some ointment under his nose before Changbin feels a wet cloth on his throat. “Almost done. You just have blood on your neck.”

“Ew. Wonder whose fault that fucking is?” Changbin mumbles.

“Oh, definitely mine. I have no problem admitting that.”

“God, I hate you.”

“You don’t.” Jisung pokes the side of Changbin’s face that isn’t bruised. “C’mon. I’m done. I need to take a shower.”

Changbin blinks his eyes open and shakes his head. “No! It’s cold. I don’t wanna fall asleep alone.”

“No, I’m gross, and _ I _ don’t wanna wash the sheets in the morning.”

“I’ll _ do _ it, it’s fine. They should’ve been washed like… last week anyway.” He picks up Jisung before he can hop off the counter and he automatically puts his arms around Changbin’s neck because he loses his balance, before freezing.

“Hey, fuck you, that’s not fair.”

“Oh, you’re blushing.”

“Am not. Dumbass.”

“You’re cheeks are literally turning red.” Changbin presses his nose against Jisung’s cheek playfully. “Also your face is hot.”

“No, your nose is just cold. And it’s… warm in here.”

“Jisung. If you would’ve left it at the nose thing, your point would’ve held a little more water.” He drops Jisung onto the mattress suddenly and laughs when Jisung grumbles. “I’m actually still _ freezing _, you’re right, because you know as well as I do that the heater is absolute shit.”

“Stop being a smartass.” Jisung tugs on his hand when he doesn’t move and sticks his lip out. “God, okay, you’re _ right _, it’s cold, now just lay down please. Fuck changing if we’re gonna wash the sheets anyway.”

“You’re such a baby. You really hate to do anything that I suggest, but as soon as you say it it’s fine.” Changbin sits down on the edge of the unmade bed and tugs his jeans off. He barely has time to throw his jacket on top of them before Jisung is tugging him closer and flinging the blankets over them. "I hate you."

“You don't.”

“Yeah.” It’s been a while since they’ve managed to share a bed, which is a painful realization, but this feelings feels like home even more than their apartment does. He kisses the back of Jisung’s hair. “I missed you, Jisung.”

“I missed you too, Binnie.”


	2. there's a riot in my head; demanding we do this forever

Changbin wakes up to cold and empty arms and there’s an automatic, instinctive surge of panic and sadness before his eyes are even open. It takes a moment for the sound of the bathroom heater and shower spray to register in his mind and he takes a deep breath. He forces his eyes open and there’s steam floating from the open bathroom door.

He sticks his foot out from under the blankets and shivers, jerking it back under and flipping the bottom blanket over his face to block out the cold and the faint light making it past the blackout curtains. 

There’s no struggling rattle, the strip of tape stuck in the room’s floor vent isn’t fluttering, and the only dying growl he can hear is coming from the bathroom. The heater, that’s definitely still “on” according to thermostat in the living room, probably stopped working at some point during the night. It’s most regular quitting time is around eight in the morning on weekdays. Nine on Saturdays and Sundays if you’re lucky. Jisung jokes about it being the universe’s plot to get him out of bed earlier, but logically it’s something their shitty landlord controls and the cold is only extra incentive to stay in bed.

A few hums fall between the sound of water hitting the tub in splashes, Jisung rinsing his hair, and the tap shuts off, his singing becoming a little more clear. A couple minutes later there’s a muffled “ouch” and a bump against the wall that’s probably him stumbling while trying to get dried off and dressed. Changbin laughs. 

“Hey, I heard that! Don’t laugh at me, asshole.” A towel drops on the floor. “I thought you would still be asleep, sorry.”

“Mmhm, just woke, it’s okay,” he answers, even though he’s not exactly sure what Jisung is apologizing for right now. His voice sounds sleep-logged as hell and he clears his throat and rolls over completely.

Jisung is struggling to pull on a shirt as he comes out of the bathroom, and all Changbin can see is the dark bruises contrasting against the white shirt right before it falls down to cover his ribs.

“Ji, what the fuck…?” He’s thinking that it might be Hyunjin’s as he untangles himself from the sheets, which is a weird thought to be having when his head hurts with how upset he is but it looks big enough. Feeling this upset five minutes after waking up is disconcerting actually. Maybe his brain is throwing random observations at him as an attempt to even his thoughts out. He feels a little dizzy and he blames it on standing up too quickly. “Why didn’t you say anything about someone apparently kicking the _ shit _ out of you?”

Jisung shakes his head as he busies himself with smoothing out the wrinkles at his hips. “No, I’m okay. This wasn’t yesterday. At least most of them aren’t. Maybe a couple from that last fight I _ almost _ lost. But I didn’t! So it’s fine.”

“That really doesn’t make it any better. The fuck?” He sounds angry with Jisung when really it’s aimed at whoever did that to him and he tries to soften his voice; they’re not here and they can’t hear him, Jisung is. “You have to take better care of yourself, angel… Here, can I?”

Changbin tugs at the hem of the shirt questioningly and Jisung swallows and nods. Changbin winces and carefully, hesitantly runs his fingers over Jisung’s ribs. He shivers and Changbin pulls his hand back, realizing that it probably feels like icy feathers with how hot Jisung’s skin is from the shower. 

“I’m sorry.”

“No, fuck, don’t apologize.” Changbin sighs and lets Jisung’s shirt drop again. “I just don’t… I dunno. I guess I have no room to talk anyway.” He’s gone back into the ring after twisting his knee before and definitely after dislocating a finger or two. Probably gone back with a broken nose before that he shrugged off as a bad bruising. It’s the easiest way to pay bills. It’s addicting.

Jisung laughs and Changbin smiles reluctantly. (Jisung is contagious.) “Here, come on, let’s go get you a heat pack, dumbass.”

•••••

Jisung is flopped on the couch, remote abandoned on the floor. Netflix is open but it says Felix and a name he doesn’t recognize are already using Chan’s account so Jisung is staring at the ceiling instead. He picks his head up and nods towards the janky clock that’s been knocked off the wall for months. “So much for not getting out of bed before noon, huh?” It’s still an hour ahead too. Has _ been _ an hour ahead for a few weeks now, and that means it’s still 11:49. Seungmin hasn't been over in a while clearly. He's usually the one who gets mad and fixed it.

“Jesus.” He runs his fingers through Jisung’s hair. “Yeah, you have this uncanny way of fucking with my plans sometimes, but it’s okay.”

“You love me.” Jisung smiles up at him and Changbin is painfully aware of how much he does, so he lies down next to him, head on his chest, to avoid blurting it out bluntly.

“Yeah.” 

They accidentally lie there for a few minutes because Changbin is still drowsy and Jisung is comfortable and his hands are finally warm thanks to the microwaved pack he’s holding. The radiator is working in here thankfully. Jisung’s fingers comes up to card through Changbin’s hair and he opens his eyes. “Ah. Heat. Right.” 

Jisung giggles and Changbin can feel it against his neck before he shifts to sit on Jisung’s lap. He pulls up Jisung’s shirt and can’t help the grimace at the blacks and blues and greens in splotches all over his skin harshly illuminated by the light filtering in through the windows. He leans forward impulsively and presses a kiss under one of his ribs. It’s really more of a brush of the lips but Jisung opens his eyes in surprise.

“Fuck, your nose is still so damn cold.” He’s pouting but also blushing and Changbin shakes his head with a laugh, just a puff out of air out of his nose. He places a few more kisses over and in between his ribs before gently placing the heat pack on his torso instead and pulling his shirt down. “Hey, we still need to go to the laundromat since you said you’d wash the sheets. And regular laundry.” Changbin grumbles and shakes his head. “Grocery shopping too.” 

Changbin groans louder and drops back down next to Jisung. He’s scared of pressing into his ribs but he has a leg over his hips and an arm around him. He tugs the blanket that always stays on the couch over them and puts his head back on Jisung’s chest. “_ No _, it’s not even noon yet. And you need rest.” Changbin closes his eyes and tries to match up their breathing, but Jisung’s heartbeat seems like it’s getting louder and it’s distracting. The rhythm of his breaths keep changing too, like he’s thinking, nervous about something. He clears his throat after a couple minutes and it vibrates in Changbin’s skull.

“Hey?” He asks like he’s not sure if Changbin is awake anymore. Changbin makes a noise, opening one eye. “Oh.” Jisung’s focus jumps to the ceiling as soon as Changbin props himself up on his elbow and looks down at him sleepily. “Uh, you can take this in the same we’ve always used it, since, again, romantically it sounds so fucking _ serious _ and… terrifying to be honest, but I… I love you, Changbin.” Changbin can feel the deep breath Jisung takes but all he can hear his own heartbeat in his ears. 

He’s _ not _ really scared though. He would’ve said it a million times if he knew it wouldn’t scare Jisung, because he’s known he loves Jisung for a long fucking time and all that’s changed now is that he knows a little bit more _ how _ he loves him. He presses a long kiss to Jisung’s forehead before meeting his eyes again.

“Take this _ however _ you want, Ji, but I love you more.”

Jisung smiles up at him a little, and it’s blinding compared to the light filtering in through the windows. “Oh, however?”

“How-fucking-ever, my angel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think college has instilled this horrible, subconscious Need to make things longer if at all possible, because i was not expecting this to go beyond like 5k and yet,,,,., here we are! wreaking havoc in the binsung tag
> 
> thank u, maxie and hannah, so much<3 hannah inspired the premise of the fic and provided much appreciated critique, and maxie said binsung cuddling which somehow led to them not just Arguing --> making out but actually Fighting --> making out --> cuddling! idk how that correlated at all in my head but hey we got there
> 
> if u kudos n comment on this monster i will Hug u gently! if u share i will kiss ur forehead . goodnight my twitter is [@ANGELMlNHO](https://twitter.com/angelmlnho) and my cc is [@minbinsungs](https://curiouscat.me/minbinsungs)


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